


Five Times Shiro Told Keith To Bite Him (And One Time He Begged)

by ShirosMissingBicep



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Blood, Blood Drinking, Character Turned Into Vampire, Edited Very Little, Five Times, Graphic Description, Human Shiro (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Self-Harm, Smut, Vampire Keith (Voltron), Vampire Sex, Vampire Shiro (Voltron), Vampires, lil hints of plot that kind of just sink away into porn and vampy things, the selfharm is done to save a life not to actually harm oneself just fyi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 01:24:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16483415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirosMissingBicep/pseuds/ShirosMissingBicep
Summary: Shiro’s eyes found the NASA poster on his wall, remembering his once dream to be an astronaut, to find his life in space and just be up there with the planets and stars and everything that made him feel small in comparison.That wasn’t his dream anymore.





	Five Times Shiro Told Keith To Bite Him (And One Time He Begged)

**Author's Note:**

> I made it j u s t in time for halloween like it's literally almost midnight lmfao
> 
> This was edited like... very little. I probably won't fix it that much... so yee. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

**The First Time It Happened…**

 

There wasn’t really a way for Shiro to explain why he didn’t feel afraid of Keith. He had every reason to be, the sharp teeth, pointed ears, and his eyes glowing a molten gold color. His stance was predatory, eerily still and stiff, but Shiro felt a warmth in his chest that didn’t match the chill of Keith’s small house in the middle of nowhere. In fact, Shiro smiled a little when he locked eyes, but he knew now was not the time for loving action. Now was the time to share what he'd been feeling.

 

Shiro watched as Keith licked his lips, gold eyes flicking down, then back up with a harsh breath as he stumbled back. There was fear there, pinched and tense, as his brows lit together above the glow.

 

“You shouldn’t be here right now, Shiro.” Keith hissed, pushing himself back against the wooden wall. “I could hurt you.”

 

“You won’t,” Shiro shook his head, putting his bag down next to the door and tugging his jacket tight around himself. He was freezing, and there wasn’t a single light on, but he came here for a reason. “You need to eat.”

 

“I’m waiting for it to reach midnight to hunt. Shiro, you _need to go_.” Keith growled, but Shiro held his ground, looking at Keith with a pointed expression. The elongated nails Keith had were digging into the drywall, an awful scraping sound, but Shiro focused on staring at Keith until he figured it out. Until he realized just what Shiro wanted. But, Keith had never been good at reading people, so it came as no surprise when he asked, “What?”

 

“Keith, I’ve been with you for nearly a year,” Shiro sighed. “You’ve told me human blood sustains you for longer--”

 

“ **_No_ ** .” Keith snarled, lip curling back to show his fangs within grit teeth. A chill cooled down Shiro’s spine that the sight. “I will _not_ do that to you.”

 

“I want you to,” Shiro said. “I want you to feed from me.”

 

“Why?” Keith asked, as if the concept was strange, wrong, somehow offensive. Shiro almost scoffed at the tone, but bit his tongue to avoid it. He thought in silence for a moment, though it surely felt much longer for Keith, thought of the will and want to provide for Keith, to take care of him, to make Keith feel just as good as he made Shiro feel.

 

“Because I want to make you happy,” Shiro said, gesturing with his hand from his tightly crossed arms, still shivering, but not focusing on it as he bit at his lip. “You’re special to me, Keith. I want to take care of you. I don’t mind letting you feed from me.”

 

“Shiro, what if I hurt you?” Keith breathed, quiet and sincere, and it made Shiro’s heart hurt within his chest. He took a step closer, saw the tension in Keith’s shoulders intensify to a point Shiro was worried he might turn to stone. “D-Don’t. Don’t come closer.”

 

“ _Keith_.” Shiro called carefully. “Do you want to hurt me?”

 

Keith’s eyes widened, gold shimmering with worry. “No! Why would you--”

 

“Then, don’t hurt me.” Shiro smiled softly. “I’ve seen you spare animal after animal, I know that you’ve spared people before. You can do that with me, too.”

 

Shiro continued to walk forward until he was stood directly in front of Keith, reaching up to brush his hand against his cheek, and Keith’s eyes fell closed. His lips parted to let out a shaky breath, leaning into it. Keith’s skin was colder than usual, felt like ice under Shiro’s warm palm, surely from it being time for him to feed and the chilled air.

 

“You have a lot more self-control than you used to. You won’t hurt me, Keith.” Shiro whispered, his prosthetic hand moving forward to grip at Keith’s wrist, pulling his claws from the wall. “Put your hands on me.”

 

“But, what about--”

 

“I like your claws,” Shiro murmured. “I’m not afraid of you.”

 

Keith listened after a moment of hesitation, reaching forward to put one hand on Shiro’s cheek, and the other fisting itself into Shiro’s jacket, the fabric tearing audibly. Shiro didn’t care, though, not when Keith was this close, not when Keith opened his eyes and was looking at him like that with his glowing eyes and sharpened teeth that should scare him.

 

“Are you…” Keith whispered, eyes growing lidded and heavy. Hungry. “Are you sure?”

 

“Of course, I am.” Shiro soothed, and tilted his head into Keith’s hand, his own hand falling to wrap around Keith’s waist and pull him close, pressing their chests together. “Go ahead.”

 

“It shouldn’t-... It shouldn’t hurt.” Keith muttered, distracted. His eyes watched Shiro's neck like a man lost in a desert who'd just found water. “At first, it might, but tell me if I’m hurting you.”

 

“I will, Keith.” Shiro promised, and then Keith leaned in, pressing a few kisses to the skin of his neck. Shiro hummed at the sensation, heart picking up speed as Keith mouthed over his pulse. He knew what was coming, and he wanted it.

 

When Keith’s fangs pierced his skin, Shiro gasped through closed teeth, fingers going tight around Keith’s hoodie. It stung for a moment, felt like a needle pressing into his skin before becoming a dulled tingle. Then, Keith began to drink, warmth filling Shiro’s body as he leaned into Keith and the bite. The cold didn’t matter anymore, and the darkness was pointless since Shiro’s eyes had fallen closed. A growl rumbled against Shiro’s body, and Keith’s claws scraped against the back of his head, leaving a soft sting behind. Shiro could feel warm liquid dripping down his neck and soaking into his jacket, but didn’t care as he held Keith close and tight.

 

“Baby,” Shiro muttered after some time. “Baby, I’m getting dizzy.”

 

Keith’s body stiffened and his drinking slowed to a stop, one of Shiro’s hands pressing to the wall to support himself as Keith slowly extracted his teeth from Shiro’s neck. He could feel Keith’s tongue lap over the puncture wounds and the leaked blood, shivering and letting out a soft, sedated sigh.

 

“Thank you,” Keith whispered, voice sounding strong, unwavering as he leaned back just enough to brush his now normal thumb against Shiro’s cheek. “But, I’m never doing that again.”

 

“Why not?” Shiro asked weakly, too tired and dizzy to fight Keith that hard on the subject. “Liked it.”

 

“Because my want is to protect you, but I’m designed by nature to hurt you. I promised I would never do that.” Keith shook his head. “It was so hard to stop. I can’t risk it, Shiro. I _can’t_.”

 

Shiro frowned and leaned forward, resting his forehead against Keith’s shoulder with a sigh, who held the weight up effortlessly. “Alright… Can we go lay down in my car? I’m freezing.”

 

“Yeah, alright.”

 

* * *

  


**The Second Time It Happened…**

 

Shiro voiced his wants in the middle of his sexual tension filled bedroom. He could practically hear the way Keith seized above him, half clothed and panting as he sat up from where he was kissing Shiro's chest. Shiro's hands held Keith's hips, slid up a little from the sudden weight of anxiety making him _need_ to do something with his hands.

 

“Shiro, you remember what happened last time.” Keith sighed, leaning back a little and resting his hands against Shiro’s bare stomach. “You nearly fainted.”

 

“You were starving, then.” Shiro frowned. “I think if you're not starving, it will be different. It won't be so hard for you to stop… Keith, I want this.”

 

Keith held a tight-lipped expression, staring down at Shiro as if it were the hardest decision he was ever going to make. Eventually, he let out a sigh and relaxed, the tension falling from his shoulders.

 

“I don't want to make a habit out of using you as a personal blood bag.”

 

“Keith, that is not what's happening.” Shiro frowned, sitting up and wrapping his arms around Keith's middle. “You've bitten me once, Keith, and even then you listened to me when I told you enough. And you were about to go hunting, so you were starving.”

 

“I've hurt people before.” Keith whispered, his head falling forward slowly to let their foreheads rest together, Keith's eyes closing. “I want to feed from you, but not for food. It pleases me in a way I can't explain, but I don't… I’m so worried you'll end up as yet another ‘animal attack’ victim.”

 

“But you've said I'm different, right?” Shiro asked. “You've said the urge to feed from me stems from something other than hunger.”

 

“It's does, but Shiro, that doesn't mean I won't hurt you.” Keith sighed, a hand moving up to cup the back of his neck. “I can't explain how _good_ you are. I can’t lose you.”

 

“You won’t, Keith.” Shiro shook his head and tilted it forwards to meet their lips softly, a hand sliding up the length of Keith’s bare back, the fresh warmth from his feed last night making Shiro hum with appreciation. Their kiss broke, and Shiro let out a soft breath between them. “I get it if you can’t. But, I want you to know that it’s an option, baby. I want to take care of you.”

 

Keith’s breath hitched, then he wrapped both of his arms around Shiro and hugged tight, burying his face in Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro returned the embrace with a soft sigh, pressing a kiss to Keith’s shoulder as he felt Keith’s fingers grapple at his skin for a moment, searching for something to hold on to with a desperation that Shiro could almost feel.

 

“ _Thank you, Shiro_.”

 

* * *

 

**The Third Time It Happened…**

 

Keith was dying, and Shiro didn’t know what to do about it. He was barely breathing, cold as ice, eyes closed and limp.

 

Shiro was useless when he'd seen Keith on his front doorstep, barely conscious with unhealed flesh and eyes that the light flickered and dimmed from. Shiro heard his faint whisper of a name, “ _Haggar,_ ” but could decipher nothing more as he collapsed completely, looking dead, like a true vampire with blood stained clothes and skin, hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes.

 

But Shiro knew better. Vampires looked more alive than any human if they feed. This, Shiro thought painfully, is what death looked like.

 

But, the faint movement of breath, of his eyes flickering beneath the lids, It was the only confirmation that Keith was still _alive_.

 

That didn't mean he wasn't well on his way to a grave.

 

Shiro laid Keith out on his couch and pushed his hair from his face, eyebrows turned up with worry as he looked over his lover's face. He didn't know what to do, exactly, he knew that blood could help return his strength, but that couldn't be a perfect, simple fix. With Keith on death's door… Who knew what he might do.

 

But, above all else, Shiro _trusted_ Keith. He had since what felt like forever ago, and he wouldn't let that change now as he jumped up from his living room floor and headed into the kitchen. His basic anatomy class was helpful now, as he felt for the pulse in his flesh wrist as his eyes scanned over the knife block. They were sharp blades, one false move and Shiro would be dead in less than an hour, or he could ruin his last remaining hand.

 

That is, if Keith doesn’t lose his mind, half dead and prepared to make Shiro meet an early demise.

 

“He wouldn't do that,” Shiro mumbled to himself, but there was a special, primal instinct to flee, to run, to get out of Keith's area before something horrible happened.

 

It was times like these that Shiro remembered his grandfather's words the most.

 

“ _A confident dog is one to be suspicious of,_ ” He had said, patting young Shiro's shoulder with an aged smile. “ _But the one who is cornered is the one you should be afraid of, Takashi._ ”

 

Shiro shook his head and gripped one of the blades, holding it tight in his prosthetic hand as he moved back into the living room, heart pounding in his chest. He heard the faintest of whines, Keith's hand shifting against his blood-soaked hoodie that stuck to his pale chest, and Shiro knew that Keith was in pain. He had to fix it, had to help.

 

Shiro loved Keith. Nothing would change that.

 

He gripped the knife in his hand and turned his eyes to his wrist as he knelt next to Keith. Keith had once said that the blood of the person a vampire holds dear is the richest of all, and could sustain his kind for weeks without starvation setting in. It could heal mortal wounds, give the power to ruin whole cities…

 

He only hoped his blood would do the trick for Keith.

 

Pressing the tip of the blade against his skin and pushed, slicing carefully until he was sure he'd nicked the artery just enough to provide steady flow. It hurt, but he was too full of adrenaline to pay any mind as red filled the cut and Shiro had dropped the knife in favor of pulling Keith's jaw open and shoving his wrist in.

 

There was no immediate reaction, but with time, Keith began to slowly swallow, blood caked hand shifting against his chest again, then moving up to wrap weakly around Shiro's wrist. He hadn't bitten yet, and Shiro felt his heart sink with the weight of sorrow and pain. No slicing of flesh matched the hurt of his thoughts.

 

_Even now, Keith was afraid of his nature._

 

“Bite, baby. It's alright,” Shiro soothed, prosthetic sliding against Keith's hair. When purple eyes flecked with gold slid open, locked hazily on Shiro's as if he wasn't really, truly seeing him, Shiro felt his throat go tight and his fingers stutter in Keith's hair. “Go ahead.”

 

Keith's lips curled back as his eyes fell closed once more, and his teeth grew until they scraped against Shiro’s wrist. Then, they pierced through Shiro's cut, and he felt Keith _suck_. It was frightening, the feeling of being drained. The feeling of having the very essence of what kept him running pulled from him.

 

 _This_ is why the legends of vampires were so fearsome, because if this kept up, Shiro would be dead, very, _very_ soon.

 

“You gotta be careful, Keith,” Shiro muttered, leaning into the edge of the couch heavily. He watched Keith's claws grow against his wrist, hold the limb in place as he drank the mouthful he'd gathered. “Keith… Careful.”

 

A growl, loud and ferocious, sounded against his wrist before being abruptly cut off by another swallow of Shiro's blood, crimson running down his arm and over Keith's cheek, mixing with sweat and dried blood that probably wasn't Keith’s to begin with. Shiro felt those teeth dig in deeper, sharper than ever before as he continuously sucked and swallowed.

 

Shiro knew, though, above all else, that Keith would not kill him, even as his vision swam, and he collapsed against the couch.

 

***

 

Shiro felt as though he was underwater, a voice calling out to him but the sound is muddled and muted. His limbs felt like weights, pulling him deeper into the puddle of silence that he’d grown used to, and his lungs burned with the need for breath. He didn’t care much, because the silence was warm, even if deafening. But there were hands, and sharpness from them, pulling his head up and rubbing at his chest-- no, pushing. Something was wrong, but Shiro…

 

 _Keith_.

 

His eyes snapped open with a gasp, feeling Keith’s hands yank from his chest. His vision swam even still, blurred and tired as he tried to lift an arm, but he only found himself able to shift it against the carpet of his living room floor.

 

“Shiro?” Keith sniffed, looking down at him from where he was crouched next to Shiro’s body. “Shiro, baby, I’m so sorry. I never-- This is why I didn’t want to… Fuck, I thought--”

 

One of his clawed hands came up to drag over his eyes, teeth gritting and shoulder shaking. Shiro swallowed hard, coughed hard until his chest burned with the spasms. His tongue tasted like metal and iron, with a twinge of something Shiro couldn’t name.

 

“Did you… feed me?” Shiro rasped, his head lolling to the side to look up at Keith who was wiping at his cheeks and staring at Shiro as if he’d disappear.

 

“Yeah, I-... It was the only thing I could think of.” Keith nodded, reaching out and pressing his hand to Shiro’s cheek. Shiro could tell he was fighting off tears. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Shiro.”

 

“I made you drink, you… you did nothing wrong, Keith. I knew you wouldn’t kill me.” Shiro smiled softly. Slowly, but surely, he could feel himself again. “It’s not like some sort of blind hope. It’s not like that. I just… _know_.”

 

“I nearly did. Fuck-...” Keith whimpered, then sobbed, and dropped down against Shiro’s chest with a shaky breath. “I don’t ever wanna lose you, Shiro.”

 

“Oh, Keith…” Shiro breathed, tried to lift his arm again and succeeded, placing a hand against the back of Keith’s head, fingers tangling into dark hair still covered in bodily fluids and grime. It was amazing the way his body was picking up. Warming up, growing strong unnaturally fast. And with those thoughts, Shiro felt a shiver roll up his spine.

 

“Am I going to turn?” Shiro asked softly, his voice shaking a bit at the thought. He loved Keith, but… What is essentially an eternity? Even if it were a perfect world, death had always been a constant. A fact of life, that death would come.

 

“What?” Keith asked, lifting his head and looking at Shiro with puffy eyes.

 

“You gave me your blood, and I… I feel strange.” Shiro frowned, swallowing hard and tasting that iron flavor once more. “I feel like I could take on anything right now… Physically, at least.”

 

“Oh. _Oh_ , no, Shiro, that’s… That’s not how turning works. A vampire’s blood is kind of a… cure all. But as soon as it leaves your body, its effects will, too.” Keith explained, wiping at his nose and sitting up enough, glaring at the wet spot now darkening the fabric of Shiro’s sweatshirt.

 

“Oh… Okay.” Shiro nodded, that weight falling from his chest and letting him take a full breath. “How _does_ turning work?”

 

“You have to be drained of blood completely, then given a vampire’s blood.” Keith explained shortly, in a way that made Shiro feel like there was more information that Keith just wasn’t willing to give. His features grew stone-like, a deepening frown that Shiro felt in his chest. “It’s not a pleasant process.”

 

“Yeah…” Shiro murmured and slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. He felt like he needed to say something, needed to voice something to Keith, but he wasn't sure just what it was. He couldn't find the words to fit, the words that would explain the pounding in his chest and the considering, _maybe?_ , running through his mind.

 

“You know…” Shiro started, despite his inability to think of exactly what he wanted to say. He needed to say _something_ . So, he met Keith's eyes, which were watching his with a twinge of sorrow and pain mixed within purple and blue tones. “I… Keith, I love you for who you are; _what_ you are. I've never feared for my life when it comes to you.”

 

It must have been the right thing to say, because Keith's tense shoulders sagged and his face fell into a soft look that Shiro adored.

 

“I love you, too.” Keith smiled, and it was perfect.

 

* * *

 

 

**The Fourth Time It Happened…**

 

Shiro had convinced Keith to practice stopping over the past few months. To practice allowing his prey to run free if he had a way to get other food. From what Keith had told him, it was working, too. It was getting easier for him to control hunger and urges to feed. Even if Shiro was different, even if Keith wasn't feeding for hunger when it came to Shiro, it helped, because Keith accepted.

 

“Does it matter where you feed from?” Shiro asked softly, laid out on the bed with Keith straddling his hips comfortably. Keith was in his clothes, but Shiro had stopped himself of his shirt, enjoying the spring weather and the soft breeze fluttering through his window.

 

Keith visibly considered Shiro’s question, then shook his head, running his fingers over the scarring down the side of Shiro's stomach. “Not really. I-...”

 

His eyes flicked up to Shiro's face, hesitant. Shiro watched him curiously, attempting to be encouraging without interrupting. Keith's eyes felt back to the scar, thumbing over the uneven parts with a special sort of reverence that made Shiro melt. “If I want the person to die quickly, well… The neck is the best option. Tearing it open and letting their heart do the majority of the work is best. I always made sure they were unconscious first, though. Or I tried to.”

 

Shiro wanted to ask, but knew the only answer he would get would be clipped. Keith never liked thinking about the time before he'd gotten control, when he was a fresh, unsired beast that only knew hunger and bitterness. Shiro reached up and took the hand laid over his stomach, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the palm softly.

 

“You've come so far,” Shiro whispered, twining his fingers into Keith's. “Your past doesn't define you anymore.”

 

Brows tilting up, lips curving up, warmth. Softness in purple and Shiro's heart skipping a beat because Keith shouldn't be beautiful from _every_ angle, but he _is_ . There're years in his eyes that Shiro never really _saw_ , but always recognized when he searched for it. It's frightening almost, that Keith still remembered everything from a hundred years ago. Two hundred, even, and that someday, if he so chooses, he might distantly remember this night a hundred years from now.

 

It's a serious thought, and Shiro is more sure of it every day.

 

“I know that it doesn't.” Keith said softly. “Thank you.”

 

Shiro reached his prosthetic up until his fingers slid against Keith's cheek and up into his hair, all to gently pull him down into a firm, loving kiss that never failed to take his breath away. Keith's other hand creeped up his chest, warm from being well-fed and back Shiro hum appreciatively as Keith cupped his jaw.

 

“Where'd you want to feed from?” Shiro mumbled against Keith's lips, brushing them one last time before letting Keith sit up. He looked hesitant, even still, and his hand slid down to brush over the scar on Shiro's wrist.

 

“Are you okay with me biting your neck?” Keith asked, looking at him as if he might say _no_ . Which was a ridiculous concept, because if Shiro were wholly, truly honest, he liked the idea of Keith's teeth in _him_ . It was a low, primal thing that didn't really make sense to Shiro; he’d never been possessive before, nor much of the jealous type. But Keith… There was something about it that made it _different_.

 

Shiro kicked himself when he realized that, more often than not, his jealousy was aimed after game from the woods around Keith's home.

 

“Yes. I don't mind where you bite.” Shiro smiled softly, brushing some of Keith’s hair back from his eyes and tucking behind his ear. “Trust yourself a little.”

 

Keith’s lips twitched, and he nodded, the hand still holding Shiro’s cheek nudging him a bit. Shiro turned his head to the side, hands falling to rest against Keith’s thighs as he took a steadying breath. Instinctual nerves bumbling up at the impending sting of teeth sinking into his neck, but also, excitement and a type of eagerness that Shiro wasn’t used to feeling. Sure, he wanted to care for Keith, to be the person he trusted wholly, but that didn’t mean he looked forward to this type of thing. But, now he did, and that was new, and uncharted territory that Shiro wanted to venture into with Keith.

 

After all, twenty-seven is a nice number to stop aging on.  

 

He felt wet lips touch his skin, brush over his pulse with a special sort of fragility that made Shiro feel cherished. Keith’s hand was sliding up his chest until he could cradle Shiro’s head in his palm, while the other hand rest against where Shiro’s prosthetic met the stump of his bicep. Shiro’s eyes found the NASA poster on his wall, remembering his once dream to be an astronaut, to find his life in space and just be up there with the planets and stars and everything that made him feel small in comparison.

 

That wasn’t his dream anymore.

 

He was done with dating, and with working. He was done with living a life that seemed so insignificant and so simple when he thought of days waking up with Keith right there at his side, hair a mess and sticking every which way and tickling his nose. His new dream, his new life, was one that he loved.

 

Once he might have questioned it. Felt fear at the prospect of not dying, or not aging, of not having a couple kids, then growing old and grey with someone after a few decades, living life as he had always thought it was meant to be lived. Shiro met Keith that night in the middle of summer, and it flipped his world upside down in the best way possible. Shiro was ready to be at his side for as long as possible, for as long as he could because Keith was _everything_.

 

The sting of teeth breaking skin, the breath that escaped Shiro’s throat, shaped around Keith’s name and said like a prayer to the one Shiro loved — it only solidified those thoughts. Those wants, those desires.

 

Shiro wanted forever.

 

And forever was Keith.

 

* * *

 

**The Fifth Time It Happened…**

 

It turned out that _twenty-eight_ was Keith’s preference. Shiro remembered how he had waited until morning, neck a bit sore but reminding him of everything he thought the night before. The anxiety of asking Keith to do that, to turn him, was the worst part, but once he’d said it… It came out like a rush of water because the idea of forever made perfect sense to Shiro.

 

Keith, on the other hand, was very dubious.

 

_“You know that turning isn’t always successful. It could kill you.”_

 

_“I know. I’m willing and ready to take that risk for you. For us.”_

 

But still, he agreed the next day, saying that he wanted Shiro to wait. One year, to take his time, to really think about it because Keith hadn’t been sired, but Shiro needed to understand what being sired would feel like.

 

So, thus began meeting people Keith knew, other vampires and some humans who knew their stuff. Shiro liked Thace and Ulaz the most. Kolivan and Antok, horribly stone-faced and stoic, hair faded out to white with their age, were intimidating and even Keith seemed to bend to their words when push came to shove. Through it all, though, despite any shock or surprise of what his life might be like after the change, Shiro insisted that he still wanted it. He still wanted all of it.

 

Shiro thought that might even frighten Keith a little.

 

_“But you love sunrises, Shiro. You know how a vampire’s schedule is. You’ll never see another in the same way you do now.”_

 

_“I don’t need sunrises when I have you.”_

 

So, even now, as he sat in the basement of Keith's home on an expensive bed with even more expensive sheets, watching Keith prepare the room and make sure it would be as comfortable as possible, Shiro trusted things would work out.

 

It would work out, and be okay. It had to.

 

But, Keith seemed worried. Of course, he did. Turning, he'd explained, is a very big deal. Siring another is a big deal, and turning someone you love is quite the honor, from what Ulaz had explained.

 

Shiro would be seeing a lot of him, apparently, since post turning, there are lots of risks and things that could go wrong. Sometimes young vampires go insane. Sometimes people don't acclimate to the heightened senses well.

 

Sometimes they don't wake back up.

 

Which is probably why Keith is worried, but Shiro has almost died twice before, and the third time is usually the lucky one. After all, Keith is worth the risk for Shiro. He always will be. If there's a chance for so much more... A chance for decades of love and warmth and happiness, Shiro was fully prepared, had been fully prepared, to take the chance, to let Keith turn him.

 

Shiro swallowed when Keith looked at him from across the room. A look that said, “ _It's time.”_

 

Shiro bit at his lip, took a breath as he watched Keith walk over and place a hand on his cheek. His eyes had that soft look in them again, and Shiro watched it close.

 

 _Worth the risk_.

 

If he never saw it again, Shiro would surely lose his mind.

 

If he only saw it for a few short decades, it wouldn't be enough.

 

 _Worth the risk_.

 

“I'm ready.” Shiro murmured, wrapping his arms around Keith's waist from where he sat on the bed Keith had bought only because Shiro's comfort was a priority. “I want this.”

 

“I know.” Keith sighed, a hand petting over the shortness of Shiro's undercut. “I'm scared of losing you.”

 

“You won't.” Shiro shook his head, sureness bleeding through and forcing himself to keep that single thought in mind. _Worth the risk._ “If you think I let a little dying get in the way of being with you, then you're wrong.”

 

Dark humor was Shiro's go to, and thankfully, that appealed enough to Keith that he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Shiro's forehead. Feather light and reverent. Not a goodbye, but something that made Shiro's heart ache more than any farewell could have.

 

“You're worth the risk, Keith.” Shiro breathed, eyes shut and heart pounding in his chest. Shiro swallowed around the lump in his throat, swallowed so hard it was audible and tangled his fingers into Keith's shirt. “You're worth the risk.”

Keith blew a breath out through circled lips, Shiro could hear it shake, running his fingers over where Shiro’s hair became longer. “You are, too.”

 

They stayed like that, close and kissing softly, for a time. But eventually, they both knew the time had truly come. There was no avoiding it, no thinking about it instead of doing it.

 

No backing out.

 

Shiro wasn't afraid.

 

Keith guided him down into the bed, slow and steady with soft kisses laid into his lips. Soothing, calming, it grounded him as he truly accepted that, tonight, he would die and hopefully return for centuries to come.

 

“Remember what I told you? Don't fight it. You might want to, I might have to hold you down. It's just an instinct, let it happen, I can handle it.” Keith murmured softly, a clawed thumb brushing over Shiro's cheek. Shiro nodded with a small smile, leaning into the touch. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.” Shiro said back, heart thudding in his chest. “See you soon?”

 

Keith smiled, but Shiro saw the hope in his eyes. “See you soon.”

 

Keith didn't kiss over his neck this time, or drink in gentle gulps. He bit firm, though it didn't hurt any worse than Shiro was expecting, it was different. He sucked hard and swallowed in greedy, diligent swallows that nearly knocked Shiro's breath from his lungs. It brought back the night with Keith's teeth settled into his wrist and ferocious eyes blinded by near death and starvation, but this time, Keith wouldn't stop, and this time, Shiro _knew_ that Keith would kill him.

 

Shiro trusted that he would.

 

And suddenly he was afraid of it.

 

“I-... Keith, I…” He gasped, and hand raising to Keith's shoulder and pushing slightly, but he was only met with yet another flex from him swallowing another mouthful. “Keith, I'm scared.”

 

There was a hand around his wrist soon after his words, soft, but grounding, setting it back against the bed. Shiro knew he would keep it there, too, but it let him remind himself that he wanted this. He wanted Keith. He wanted to wake up and see Keith there, proud and happy. The fear dissipated, but it tugged at the edges of his mind, even as his thoughts grew hazy, eyelids heavy.

 

He fell into darkness with the feeling of Keith's thumb brushing over his wrist, and if there was anything he wanted to remember in death, it was Keith's touch.

 

***

 

“--ro? Shi-... wake up f-... You're saf--”

 

Shiro felt heavy.

 

Where was he, again?

 

He was warm; _really_ warm, and there was a pressure against his cheek that felt wonderful enough that he leaned into it with the growing energy he had. Whatever he was on was soft, and Shiro remembered fear, in some way, but didn't understand why, exactly, he could be afraid when he was safe, warm, and comfortable.

 

“That's it, Shiro, come on. Come back to me.”

 

 _Keith_.

 

It came back to him in what could only be described as a wave from the ocean, powerful and frightening and all encompassing. Keith, bite, love, fear, _death_.

 

“ **_Keith_ ** .” Shiro rasped, and this throat felt dry despite the pleasant taste in his mouth, metallic and sweet. His stomach turned, and Shiro felt a new hunger tug, a craving, a _need_ that he'd never felt before. His face pinched, hands sagging across the softness he laid on and his nails caught along the fabric. He forced his eyes open in the dim room, struggling to really get them open more than just a slit. Despite knowing the lights were dimmed, it was still too bright, as if he were looking directly into the sun. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes which snapped shut and growled.

 

A new sound, but familiar. Keith had made sounds like that before, but this one… Shiro would be excited if he could think about anything but hunger.

 

“Hungry.” Shiro mumbled, and his stomach turned and grumbled. Keith nodded, reaching over and grabbing a bag, something in plastic, because Shiro could hear the way it bent and shifted beneath Keith's hand and the sloshing of thick liquid inside. It smelled, too, it smelled sweet and good and Shiro reached blindly for it.

 

“No, hey, put your hands down. I've got it. Your claws will fuck up the bag,” Keith said, and though it sounded like a whisper, Shiro could hear it clearly. Shiro growled at that, wanting to take the bag and rip it open to taste that sweetness, to gulp it down fast, and was only met with a sharp hiss in return. It made something primal in him snap and bend with obedience, Shiro's lips, having curled back, relaxing again as he let out a faint whimper.

 

 _Good. Drink_.

 

The voice came from his mind, but he didn't care. It was controlling, leading, someone he could trust and love, and so he listened, letting his mouth fall open, and then a flavor like no other slid upon his tongue. Iron, but sweet. Like citrus and green vegetables, but it was good for some reason even though the combination sounded horrible. This was good, and Shiro, unable to stop himself, reached up and grabbed at the body beside himself with an appreciative snarl between gulps of the drink.

 

_Your first taste of blood is always interesting. Keep going, even if you feel full._

 

Shiro shivered at the way the voice enveloped him, and obeyed despite the need to challenge. He trusted it, because he knew it would guide him. It was Keith, he was sure, and so, he did not fight it.

 

Blood was good, now. Really good. He'd tasted blood before, but it was never like this. This was like the best dessert he'd ever had, _this_ was euphoric. Shiro drank until it was gone, his body buzzing as Keith moved to throw the bag away and turn down the lights almost completely. Shiro opened his eyes, adjusting and taking a breath he didn't feel like he needed, but simply did out of habit. It felt right to do.

 

He could see clearly, despite the room barely having any light at all. Keith's features, he could see every part of it so clearly that he was sure it couldn't be real. The cracks in concrete walls across the room were easily picked out, the sound of the house above the basement setting and shifting from wind heard easily. Shiro could smell the dinner he ate three nights ago on Keith’s person, somehow, despite knowing they'd both showered at least twice since then.

 

“How are you feeling?” Keith asked softly, in that clear, whisper tone that almost confused Shiro. He knew that his senses would be stronger, but he didn't realize just how _much_ stronger they are.

 

“It's like I'm hearing and seeing everything all over again,” Shiro chuckled, licking his lips and tasting blood on them. “I can smell that onion and teriyaki chicken I made for dinner three nights ago.”

 

Keith's lips quirked up, and Shiro was surprised when he easily caught the motion, and the way all of his face was involved in the look Shiro knew well, and not just his lips. “Being a young vampire is… an adventure.”

 

“I feel you, though.” Shiro mumbled, a familiar presence echoing in his mind. Emotions, thoughts, sounds, all formed into a presence that Shiro easily associated with Keith's favorite shade of red. “You're in my mind. Like Thace said. I can _feel_ you.”

 

“And I can feel you,” Keith hummed, and leaned down to press a kiss into Shiro's lips. He could taste blood on Keith’s lips, blood he didn't recognize and dulled, merely a vague suggestion of flavor from a past meal.

 

“You should try to rest. You'll be going through a lot of things these next few days.” Keith mumbled against his lips and laid down next to Shiro. “If you get hungry, just say so.”

 

Shiro nodded, and realized this was just the beginning of his newly created life born from death and love and everything he never expected himself to look forward to.

 

* * *

 

There's something to be said about Keith’s constant control over his very nature, despite his tendency to let instinct and impulses drive him wherever it may go. Shiro trusted it, like he trusted Keith, because Keith's abilities are not to be taken for granted.

 

And there's also something to be said about how he holds himself back, never hurting Shiro even though they’ll both heal come dusk, fingers gripping his hips, but never letting his claws show or break skin. His teeth grazed Shiro’s flesh with desire but never punctured it. Even though Shiro could take it, even though he'd heal with nothing to show the past wounds, Keith was still careful with him.

 

Sometimes, it's all Shiro could think about. The dig of teeth, nails scratching at his skin, a growl in his ear that left him quaking with want and submission. He loved it, loved Keith, _wanted it_ to hurt and burn and feel helpless to whatever Keith desired of him because making Keith happy made him feel _good_. It made him feel right, it always had, and the year’s time of being a vampire, of having Keith as his sire, only increased that tenfold.

 

Which is why, today, Shiro planned to challenge it. To push Keith, to fight him, to make him realize that Shiro wanted Keith to _fuck him right_. He wouldn’t fall apart, he was twice Keith’s size, he’d be fine. Shiro needed it. Needed to feel the strength Keith pushed down on his arms and hips and neck. He wanted to hear growls and snarls that left him trembling, panting for more. More of Keith, because Shiro had always wanted to feel everything he had.

 

It was only a matter of time, after all. Keith was always worked up post-hunt, shivering and alert with his senses flaring. It wouldn’t take much to find the right buttons and push them, to make Keith glare him down and shove him against the wall.

 

So, Shiro sat and waited in Keith’s secluded home, reading a book and listening for the crunch of footsteps in dry summer grass surrounding the house. He waited, and waited, became impatient and walked around, thinking about just how he might get what he wanted. Once upon a time, Keith was the one who pushed Shiro. Who made Shiro lose his mind with a few words and touches until he was gripping Keith’s hips so hard that it would have hurt any normal person.

 

It was Shiro’s turn, now, since the practical silence had begun to fill with rhythmic crunches of grass and sticks. Shiro hurried to sit back on the couch and lay back, picking his book back up and acting interested in it as Keith made his way up to the house, open the door and shut it carefully. Shiro could already feel the buzz in his mind, vibrant and loud from Keith’s instincts pleased with his hunt, the smell of blood and dirt.

 

Shiro didn’t pay him any mind as he walked into the open part of the house. He could feel Keith's eyes on him, still glowing a bit and burning into Shiro's very core with the stare he held. Keith would know that Shiro can feel it, that Shiro _wants it_ , but is actively ignoring it, which is good because that would only spark the fire he planned to have blazing by the end of the night. There was a soft growl, almost a scoff, but there was a note of something inhuman that Shiro had grown to love.

 

“ _Shiro_.” Keith said, walking over to the couch and moving around to stand in front. Shiro then laid his book down and looked up, raising his eyebrows when he met molten gold.

 

“Good hunt?” Shiro asked, reaching to touch Keith with his prosthetic, brushing his fingers over Keith's own gently with a chasteness Shiro knew he would hate. It was amazing to see his eyes narrow and his brows pinch. To see his body language change and become irritable and aggravated. Shiro wanted it, Keith would know that, but was simply challenging it to get on his nerves.

 

Keith gave a tight nod anyway, lips turned down and thin. He didn't want to push. Shiro sat up and scooted himself around until there was room for Keith, patting next to himself. “Lay down.”

 

Keith did, watching Shiro closely as if he were trying to figure out what kind of puzzle Shiro had set up for him to solve. Shiro could practically see the way Keith was shivering and shaking with restraint, though it was barely there. He set aside his book and settled up between Keith's legs, running his hands over Keith's clothes legs, up to his hips, watching the shift of his expression with a smug grin.

 

“I want to try something…” Shiro muttered, watching Keith close, feeling a chill slide through his spine at the hunger in Keith's eyes. “Can we?”

 

“What do you want?” Keith asked, hoarse as Shiro's hands forced themselves underneath Keith's shirt, feeling the wonderful warmth there. Shiro's cock twitched with interest when he felt the muscles ripples, and heard the low, husky tunes of Keith's voice. It was perfect; Shiro wanted him so badly, but he had a goal, and Shiro wasn't one to back down.

 

Shiro didn't respond except with a sly expression, leaning forward to connect their lips with a heavy sigh falling from his nose. Keith's hands were on him fast, gripping his hair, pushing under his shirt. The restraint Keith always had, as expected, was mere threads now. It was exactly what Shiro wanted, feeling the promise of tight fingers around his hips and throat and wrists, moaning into Keith's mouth as his human hand fell to the front of Keith's jeans, palming the bulge there. Keith gasped against him, rolling his hips up.

 

“Fuck-- What's with you?” Keith growled as Shiro's fingers popped the button in Keith's pants and snuck underneath them and his boxers. Fingers wrapping around Keith's cock, Shiro smirked.

 

“There's something I want, Keith; Something you haven't been giving to me.” Shiro purred, fingers stroking Keith's growing length as best he could in the confined space, his prosthetic hand having moved to support himself against the arm of the couch. Keith's gaze flicked up to meet Shiro's eyes, a bit worried despite the heat in the dimmed gold. “I want you to stop being scared of breaking me. In fact, that is exactly what I want you to do.”

 

With his words, Shiro pulled Keith’s cock from his pants and gave it a single firm stroke, hearing the shaky breath falling from Keith’s lips. His hips rolled with the touch, but Shiro gave no freedom for more friction. Keith swallowed visibly, and Keith watched his throat flex and shift with it.

 

“I don’t want to make you scared,” Keith said with a cracking voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“ _Keith_ ,” Shiro said, like he was being ridiculous. “I was turned a _year_ ago. I know what I want, and you’re not going to hurt me in any way I don’t want. You’ll feel it if I’m uncomfortable.”

 

“But, I…” Keith breathed, biting his lip with fanged teeth. “Are you sure you want that?”

 

And suddenly, it made sense. It made perfect sense, because Keith wasn’t scared of himself. He hadn’t been scared of himself. He was scared of Shiro being scared. Of him being hurt, of him _leaving_ . Keith wanted to ruin Shiro, but refused himself. Refused to do something that might upset Shiro because he would _never_ do that. Shiro came first, in all ways, because that is how Keith showed his love. Yes, it was good. Yes, the sex was already amazing.

 

But, God, if Shiro didn’t want _more_ . If he didn’t want Keith to do what he wished to Shiro’s body, to _use_ him in all the right ways.

 

Shiro nodded, licking his lips. “I want it. Give me what I want.”

 

“We need to go to our bed.”

 

***

 

“ _Keith_ ,” Shiro hissed. “ _Please_.”

 

Keith hummed, lips sliding against the inside of his thigh and teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh as a clawed hand carefully worked his cock in steady strokes. “Please…?”

 

“Please, give me what I want,” Shiro gasped. “Please, bite me.”

 

Teeth sunk into the skin, and it _hurt_ . But it was good, it was perfect, and Shiro was huffing out a breath as he gripped the sheets and his pillow, biting his lip so hard that he was just waiting for it to bleed. Shiro watched as dark blood, almost black, seeped from his thigh, three bites already lining the area and oozing until Keith slid his tongue along his flesh. He was so _close_ , heat in his belly burning like never before. Keith hadn’t let him come yet, had fingered him open, stroked him to the edge until he was begging for it, yet he hadn’t come, left to fall away at the last moment, the peak falling from his sight each and every time.

 

“Keith, _please_ ,” Shiro murmured, breathy and broken. “ _Please_ , fuck me.”

 

“Roll over.” Keith said, dropping his hands from Shiro and scooting back.

 

Shiro let out a breath of relief, flipping himself over so fast he was surprised he didn’t get dizzy. He spread his legs wide, using his elbows to support himself as he looked back at Keith. Keith hummed, brow rising beneath his bangs as he eyed Shiro and stroked himself, heat in his eyes and teeth gnawing at his kiss swollen, blood reddened lips.

 

“Finger yourself.” Keith growled, and his tone was every bit as commanding as he’d ever heard it, making Shiro’s heart skip a beat and his cock to twitch with need. He was quick to reach under himself with his prosthetic, legs spreading a bit further as he gathered the slick lube still thick between his cheeks and pressed two fingers inside. His head dropped to the pillow, groaning lowly as the soft leathery texture of his prosthetic slid in and out of himself, lips parting around heavy breaths.

 

Slowly, he worked his fingers in and out until he couldn’t stand the slow pace any longer, fucking himself in earnest but finding no relief from the tightness in his stomach. The claws on his human hand tore at the sheets as he pushed his thumb against his perineum, and curled his fingers down into that bundle of nerves, feeling his hips jolt at the sudden shock of pleasure. Even then, all Shiro could think was how much he wanted his fingers to be replaced by Keith’s, by his tongue, his cock. Shiro didn’t care; it didn’t matter to him. He wanted _Keith_.

 

“Keith, it’s-... Fuck, it’s not enough, please,” Shiro pleaded, pushing his fingers in as deep as he possibly could, toes curling as he crooked his fingers down into his prostate. “ _Fuck_.”

 

“But you’re just so fucking hot like this…” Keith teased, moving close again and pulling Shiro’s hand from himself. Shiro was quick to move it back up, wrapping his arms around the pillow he was resting his head against. He felt Keith’s lips brush his shoulder, then his ear. “Never want it to end.”

 

Shiro shivered, Keith’s proximity leaving him dazed with want, hearing the flick of a cap and the squelching of lube being coated over Keith’s cock. Shiro’s body was trembling with the excitement, the need, the heat burning through his body to the point that he wondered if this was how it felt to be stuck within a pyre. He felt the head of Keith’s cock tease his hole, a hand moving down to cup his balls and slide underneath to stroke his cock. “Get up on your knees a bit, baby.”

 

Shiro followed the words fast, face down against the pillows, ass up and on display without shame. Keith groaned audibly, and Shiro looked back only to see him staring right back. His eyes said everything. _You’re beautiful. You’re all I want. I love you so much._ Shiro was sure he was turning an even darker shade of red, but couldn’t find it in himself to care as Keith’s cock finally lined up and pressed inside. His jaw dropped against his pillow, a strangled sound leaving his throat as Keith filled him and pressed a hand between his shoulders.

 

Sensation blurred as Keith began to fuck himself in and out of Shiro, all he could think was how _good_ it felt, better than anything before as claws dug into the flesh of his back and hip, a ruthless, mind-blowing pace that left Shiro unable to do anything but moan against the pillow.

 

The pace stayed like that until Shiro could take it no longer, his orgasm hitting without warning and leaving him choking out a snarl as his body fought the sensation, but had no choice but to stay in place and take every thrust. Keith held him there with a vicious growl, hands on his back and hip and relentless as Shiro quaked in his grasp.

 

Keith said something, but it made no sense, Shiro could pay no mind to anything but the sheer intensity of everything around him. His toes curled, his throat worked to find words, fingers grasping for something to ground himself with, but there was nothing. There was only Keith, and his cock, and the now sharp pain of his shoulder being bitten, teeth sinking in with a growl as Keith shoved himself into Shiro as deep as he could.

 

Shiro wasn’t sure when he truly came back into himself, Keith’s lips working lazy kisses into his neck, body flush against Shiro’s back, a heavy weight that was somehow soothing as Shiro’s breathing steadily began to slow and calm.

 

“ _Wow_ …” Was all Shiro could think of to say, hole clenching around Keith’s spent cock. Keith chuckled softly, pressing one last kiss against Shiro’s bitten shoulder before carefully pulling himself from Shiro.

 

“Yeah,” Keith mumbled as he grabbed wipes from beside the bed. “That was… pretty amazing.”

 

“I can’t feel my legs.” Shiro giggled against his pillow, words slurred from his face being pressed into the fabric. “Or my anything else.”

 

Keith laughed softly, wiping Shiro off and eventually rolling him over gently to wipe his front clean of blood and come, then cleaning himself up once he was sure Shiro would be comfortable. This felt good, bonelessness and gentle caring touches from Keith’s now claw-free hands. It felt exactly like what Shiro needed.

 

“We should definitely do that again.” Shiro said as he watched Keith toss the wipes and put the lube away. “All the time.”

 

“You think?” Keith hummed as he laid down next to Shiro. After a moment, his face went serious, and Shiro watched as he looked away from Shiro, then met his eyes once again. “I’m sorry for holding back on you for so long. I just thought you’d end up being… not okay with it. Which is nuts, because now I realize that I could tell you wanted it, I was just…”

 

“Hey,” Shiro muttered. “It’s alright. You don’t need to explain.”

 

Keith smiled and relaxed into the sheets, laying his head on Shiro’s shoulder and kissing his collarbone. “We’ll do this as many times as you want.”

 

“As many times as I want?” Shiro asked, chuckling. “We’d be here all day.”

 

Keith lifted his head and looked at Shiro, soft and sweet, pressing a kiss to his cheek as the tiredness set in. Shiro felt himself go warm with that shade of red in his mind, Keith’s emotions projecting so loudly that Shiro could only shiver that the sheer amount of _love_ that Keith held for him, and only knew that he could return it, just as intense, just as world conquering, just as frighteningly powerful.

 

Shiro would do anything, and everything, for Keith. It was never a question, it was never taken for granted, and their love would never dull.

 

“And I’d never complain if it meant that I woke that night with you at my side.”

 

 _Anything_.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!
> 
>  
> 
> [come chat with me on tumblr!!](https://shrios-missing-bicep.tumblr.com/)


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